


close to home

by baublegum



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birth Stuff, M/M, Mpreg, Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baublegum/pseuds/baublegum
Summary: being 9 months pregnant isn't going to stop tobio from doing what he wants. the twins, however, have other ideas.





	close to home

**Author's Note:**

> this is a commissioned work! thank you very much to the lovely person who commissioned me. i'm so happy to have gotten the chance to work with you!
> 
> if you're interested in your very own! commissioned! mpreg fic! you can check out my info [here](http://hqmpregtrash.tumblr.com/commissions)

The entirety of Tobio's pregnancy had been a game of give and take. Nine months of Tobio bound and determined to do everything himself, Atsumu egging him on, and Osamu talking the two of them down from whatever argument they'd gotten themselves into. It's damn near a miracle Tobio hadn't worked himself into an early labor by now, what with all his stubborn squabbling. Still,  _ somehow, _ he always managed to get some version of what he wanted in the first place, even if it came at a compromise.

Really, Osamu and Atsumu were bigger pushovers than either one of them cared to admit.

But that was neither here nor there, as Atsumu was rather preoccupied with not freaking out entirely.

"Tobio, are you sure?" he says, for what must be the hundredth time.

"Yes!" Tobio shouts. He wriggles his hips, but Atsumu doesn't completely dare to move, even as Tobio's squirming sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine. "You asked a hundred times already, so  _ move!" _

Tobio's on his side, carefully cushioned by a pile of pillows and Atsumu behind him. He claws at Atsumu's hip, trying to get him to move more than just shallow thrusts. There's some nagging little thought at the back of Atsumu's mind, though, and it keeps his movements gentle, cautious. He can see the curve of Tobio's cheek from where he's propped up behind him, and the grimaces that keep crossing his face, the hand he has rubbing over the swell of his stomach. He'd been pacing all over the house earlier, tidying up in a way that was more moving things to different spots than cleaning. He'd been snappish, and then sullen, and then suddenly cheerful within the span of a few minutes. And then when Osamu got home, he'd jumped the two of them without so much as a word.

Atsumu shifts, and pushes a little harder into Tobio, trying to shake off the lingering trace of concern and fuck Tobio like he keeps shouting for, but he freezes up as soon as a long, low moan tears out of Tobio's mouth.

"I can't tell if that was good or not," Atsumu says, propping himself a little higher up on his elbow to get a look at Tobio's face.

Which has gone white as the sheets below them.

"Tobio,  _ shit _ , are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

The door cracks open, and Osamu peeks his head around the corner. He takes one look at Tobio, and steps fully into the room. His hair is still wet from a shower, and he's only about half-dressed, but in an instant he's kneeling beside the bed, Tobio's hand in his.

"You're hurting," he states. Atsumu's heart stutters in his chest, especially when Tobio doesn't deny it, just nods his head.

“Let’s take a walk,” he says, ever the voice of reason. Atsumu shimmies his hips and pulls out of Tobio as gently as he can. Osamu helps him sit up, and drapes a blanket over his shoulders as he readies himself to stand up.

“I can do it!” Tobio snaps, as Osamu hovers at his elbow. Osamu’s hands go up in surrender, and he lets Tobio waddle himself into the bathroom without assistance. 

“Something’s not right,” Atsumu says, “he’s not himself today.”

Osamu sinks down onto the edge of the bed, still staring at the closed door of the bathroom.

“Can he- you know, can he go into labor from doing...that?”

“You can say ‘sex,’ ‘Tsumu. You are aware how his pregnancy started, aren’t you?”

“Yes, god, okay. Can  _ sex _ do that? Send him into early labor?”

There’s a very heavy silence between the two of them, interrupted by a clattering from the bathroom. 

“Yes,” Osamu finally says, “although it’s not really early at this point. He’s due in just a couple weeks, and due dates are just estimations anyway-”

There’s another clatter from the bathroom, and a gasp so sharp they both hear it. Osamu’s up in an instant, Atsumu untangling himself from the bed and yanking on a pair of pants right behind him. Neither one of them knock, both more or less bursting through the bathroom door at the same time. Braced against the counter is Tobio, still lily-white, trembling, and a mess on the floor between his legs. Tobio doesn’t even bother trying to hide the wince over his face anymore, and doesn’t argue or snap when Osamu darts forward to hold him steady.

“We’re going to the hospital,” he says, and it’s the most unnerved Atsumu’s heard him in the entirety of this nine months. “Get the bag, ‘Tsumu. I’ll help Tobio and clean up in here. Get the car ready, too.”

“Yeah,” Atsumu croaks out, stumbling backwards out of the bathroom.

 

Tobio had flat out refused the wheelchair brought out to the side of the car. The nurse behind it had cheerfully insisted, but Tobio had hauled himself out of the car and would’ve marched himself inside, if he didn’t involuntarily double over in pain. Osamu swept him up before the nurse could get at him, but she remained unfazed, wheeling the chair along with a smile on her face. Osamu carries him all the way to his room, carefully following the nurse’s directions, even amidst Tobio’s loud insistence that he can handle  _ walking _ on his own.

The attending doctor is equally, if not more cheerful, than the nurse who’d greeted them at the front. Tobio manages to roll his eyes at her pleasant chirping, even as he’s crushing whatever hand is in his into paste. 

“We’ll get started in just a minute here, Kageyama-kun.”

“Wha-?” he asks, his sarcasm quickly changing to worry, “how is it- so soon? I can’t, it’s too soon-”

“You’re lucky you got here when you did. How long have you been having contractions?”

“I- ugh- don’t know. This morning or- yesterday morning-”

_ “Yesterday?” _ Osamu and Atsumu say it in tandem, and it earns them both a crushing squeeze of Tobio’s hand, effectively silencing them both as they try not to groan with pain.

“That’s what I thought,” the doctor says. She scribbles something down on the paperwork in front of her, and gives all three of them a stunning grin, before turning heel and leaving the room. 

“Yesterday morning?” Osamu hisses through his teeth.

“You’ve been waiting to pop since then-?  _ Ow, _ ow, ow, my bones, I can feel my bones breaking, Tobio, Jesus! I  _ need _ that hand!”

Tobio, alarmingly, doesn’t have any kind of retort lined up; his face is scrunched up in pain, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

The doctor bustles back into the room with a pair of nurses.

“Kageyama-kun,” she says, “I’m going to examine you, but I think we’re almost ready to start pushing.” 

“Uh,” Osamu says, grimacing when Tobio squeezes his hand, “isn’t that supposed to- I mean. The water broke just a little bit ago. I thought there was a wait after that.”

“Oh, usually there is,” the doctor replies, “but intercourse and orgasms in particular can speed things up sometimes. And it seems like Kageyama-kun might be one of the lucky ones, in that his labor isn’t going to be too long, from what I’m seeing here.”

The doctor finishes her examination and claps her hands together, that same, bright  _ manic _ grin appearing on her face when she announces Tobio’s ready to start pushing. Atsumu looks at Osamu’s face, and swears he sees the same anxious grimace that must be carved into his own expression.

 

Atsumu’s beginning to get the distinct feeling that raising twins is maybe not exactly the same as growing up as a twin. It’s not anything he took into consideration beforehand, although he doesn’t really care about that right now. He studies the little pink bundle in his arms, the perfect ears, the delicate eyelashes, the tuft of dark hair. One tiny fist is curled around his finger, and the fleeting pressure, the  _ fact _ that this perfect little being is in his arms is overwhelming. 

He spares a glance across Tobio’s bed to Osamu, who’s similarly absorbed with the little one in his own arms. Still white as a sheet, since he fainted during the whole  _ birthing  _ thing- ‘Samu’s never gonna live that down- but otherwise looking as enchanted as Atsumu feels.

His attention is drawn to movement from Tobio’s cot, the heavy gaze of his eyes as he stares at the baby in Atsumu’s arms.

“How’s your hand?” he asks in a whisper, stroking a curled finger over the dark, fluffy newborn hair.

“You crushed it pretty good,” Atsumu says, shifting a little to show off the bandages wrapped around it, “it hurts.”

“So did that,” Tobio says, jerking his head in the direction of the baby. Atsumu smirks as Tobio pulls his hand away and settles back into the bed, his eyes closing swiftly.

Not a bad ending after all.


End file.
